Everybody Hurts
by HolbyHeartbeat
Summary: "Her lips tingled with the anticipation of touching his as his hands gripped the tops of her arms, their eyes locked together." Pure, angsty Jac/Fletch (Flac)


**I can't sleep and there's only so many times I can re-watch the Winter preview, so this happened.**

 **Pure angsty Jac/Fletch, because I want them to get together so much I can't think of much else :) For anyone in the same boat, hope you enjoy!**

 **xx**

* * *

 **Everybody Hurts**

"Are you ok?"

It was the third time he had asked her that morning and despite the fact that she knew he was concerned about her, she was also starting to worry that he would be overheard.

She couldn't run a ward if everybody thought she had returned to work too soon.

"I've told you already, Fletcher. I am fine. Leave me alone."

She could see him watching her as she scooped up a stack of files, raising an eyebrow and nodding to the desk. She rolled her eyes and replaced the files, taking the top one only and watching a grin spread across his face. It took her a few minutes to realise that she wouldn't usually have listened to someone's advise so readily, silently communicated across the ward or otherwise. She couldn't work out why he was so different.

"Miss Naylor?" The sound of Frieda's voice instantly snapped her back to reality as she met the dark eyes of her new registrar. "Mr Simpson, bed four. He needs a stent. I've booked him in for two o'clock."

"Good," Jac nodded. "Well, you know what you're doing. Let me know if there are any complications."

"That's it?" Petrenko frowned.

"What more do you want?" Jac asked, noting the shortness of her voice. "If you can fix a tamponade, with or without permission, then I'm sure you're more than capable of inserting a stent."

Frieda smirked.

"Still not over that then?"

Jac opened her mouth to argue but was interrupted by the director of nursing, who had seemed to appear from nowhere, stepping between the two frowning women.

"Frieda," he smiled warmly, passing her a file. "Mr Simpson is asking for you. Apparently he was going to tell you all about his time in Bulgaria."

"Does he know I'm from Ukraine?"

Fletch shrugged and Frieda gave him a look that told him that she knew what he was doing. He wasn't purposefully trying to keep Jac away from any confrontation, he just knew how passionate she could get and the last thing he wanted today was for her to lose her focus. He had spent many nights recently running his hand along her back as she tried to catch her breath, usually after she had been shouting at one of his nurses. Or Fletch himself. He knew just how stubborn she was.

When Fletch turned back to Jac, she had disappeared again.

* * *

Her office door was shut when he got there and he knew better than to open it again before knocking.

"Go away, Fletch!"

He smirked slightly; she knew it would be him. He pushed open the door and stood at the threshold, watching her as she steadied herself against her desk, the file still in her hand.

"You ok?"

Jac turned to him and glared, and Fletch tried not to grin again at the look in her eyes. There was a little part of him that welcomed the inevitable outburst from his repeated question, because at that very second she looked just like she did the first time he had met her on the ward. In control.

"I don't need you fighting my battles, Fletcher!" Jac threw the file on her desk, the noise reverberating through the room.

Fletch sighed and raised his eyebrows again.

"That hurt, didn't it?" he hadn't missed the flinch.

"Shut up. You're trying to change the subject."

Fletch moved across the room in three steps and stopped I'm front of her with his hands on his hips.

"I'm not trying to change the subject," he said sincerely. "And I'm not doubting your ability for a second. But no ones expecting you to be back to your normal warrior princess self just yet. You need to take it easy."

He could see the tears threatening to form in her eyes again and moved even closer.

"Most people who have been through what you have wouldn't still be standing," he smiled again. "I know how frustrating it was for you to be stuck on Darwin for so long, but I promise you that there isn't a single person working in this hospital who wasn't concerned about you. Even the ones you shout at on a regular basis. So if you feel that anyone is questioning why you're back at work, it's only because they want to make sure that you're well enough to be back."

Jac tried to speak but the lump in her throat was threatening to form into a sob, and she refused to let that happen.

"You can do this," he said gently, moving even closer. "You're Jac Naylor. If you need to spend some time working on paper work, then stay here. No ones going to expect you out on the ward all day."

He pushed her hair gently away from her face, his fingertips brushing her skin, and smiled. His lop-sided, teeth showing, eyes bright smile.

"You're Jac Naylor, and you're going to be just fine."

"Why are you still doing this?" Her voice was almost a whisper as she blinked at him again.

"I'm as stubborn as you are," Fletch smirked. "I'm not giving up on you that easily."

He was standing so close that she could smell his aftershave and her lips tingled with the anticipation of touching his as his hands gripped the tops of her arms, their eyes locked together.

He was waiting, she could tell. It was up to her to make the first move.

Adrian Fletcher. Always the gentleman.

Jac trembled slightly, wanting nothing more than to taste his lips, and yet she couldn't force herself to move. Because he was worth more than that. He deserved someone who wouldn't push him away when things got tough, who wouldn't poison their relationship with hatred and jealousy. He deserved better than her.

"I can't do this."

Her hand was on his chest pushing him away before he could work out what was happening. "You need to go."

"Jac-"

"I said leave me alone. Get out!"

Fletch nodded once and left. He didn't slam the door, just gently shut it behind him and disappeared. She would have slammed it, she thought. To make a point. To make an exit.

But Fletch wasn't like her. He was her polar opposite in fact. Level headed, kind, compassionate.

The room was suddenly quiet once he'd gone. It felt cold and clinical and it took her a few moments to realise that her hands were shaking. For the first time in two months, he wasn't there to steady her as her room began to spin.

"Focus," she told herself, clenching her fists. "You made the right choice."

She just wasn't sure which choice she was thinking of.

* * *

Jac took a deep breath and straightened the creases from her shirt, pushing her shoulders back. This was her ward, and yet the thought of leaving her office felt like stepping into the lion's den.

Darwin was busy and loud when she stepped out of her office and watched as a trolley was pushed past her followed by Frieda, who nodded her head in Jac's direction on the way by.

The corridor was full of strangers, faces she didn't recognise following the shooting. The hospital had changed since then; there was extra security and new nurses from St Francis', and yet the familiarity of Darwin was still there. There may be new staff, but the walls still held the same ghosts.

Jac was suddenly aware of one of those new faces standing in front of her and she let out a sigh. The last thing she wanted right now was to deal with an over-eager F1.

"You're Jac Naylor," Nicky said bluntly, her mouth hanging open, and Jac was aware that this was the second time she had heard those words within the past half hour. "It's actually you."

Jac frowned as she watched the new F1 bounce in front of her and could see Fletch watching from across the ward, clipboard in hand.

"What do you want?"

"Nothing. I mean Hanssen said I'd be working on Darwin at some point but I'm just here to drop off some notes for Fletch," she was talking fast and Jac didn't have the patience nor the time to listen to her.

"Yes well, go speak to him then."

She forced a fake smile in Nicky's direction, knowing it would look anything but genuine, and turned to walk away.

"You were the first one to see him that night, weren't you," Nicky spoke and Jac stopped in her tracks, her body suddenly tense. "Did he say anything? Did you know then what he was going to do?"

Jac was acutely aware of her hands shaking and clenched her fists shut tight. She couldn't move. Couldn't think. Couldn't breathe.

"Jac?" There he was again, a comforting hand on her shoulder snapping her back to reality, even after she had pushed him away again. He really was a glutton for punishment.

"Don't ask me if I'm ok," she snapped, letting out a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. "Just get her away from me."

Jac knew she couldn't hide in her office again and so she clenched her stethoscope and made her way to Mr Lewis in bed four. She had to keep busy and away from the new F1, before she said something she would regret.

* * *

"So you haven't got the notes I asked for then?" Fletch sighed, trying hard to hide his frustration. It had been weeks since he had had a proper night's sleep; between the late shifts, nightmares and tears from the kids (and himself) his usual eight hours had dropped significantly. And just to top it off he had new F1s from St Francis running around the ward as if they understood what they had just been through.

It had taken him weeks to convince Jac to stay at Holby, and yet Nicky had managed to un-do some of his hard work within seconds of meeting her. He knew that on a normal day Jac would have had a quick response to put her in her place and let her know that bringing up the subject so soon wasn't advisable, but this wasn't a normal day.

Jac Naylor was still trying to get through the day without doubling over in pain or doubting her ability to work, never mind deal with unintentionally incentive F1s.

"Well, no," Nikki frowned, now bouncing on her feet again. "I think I picked up the wrong ones because I was talking to Donna and she said that I should take Mrs Robinson's bloods to the lab first and I told her that you would be waiting for the notes, but then Mr Hanssen-"

"Nicky-"

"I had them in my hand when I was watching Morven put in a chest drain, and I think I may have left them by the computer. I'll go right now and get them."

Fletch held his hands in front of Nicky, hoping it would be enough to stop her bouncing on the spot.

"Will you please just calm down a bit," Fletch tried to reason, but Nicky wasn't listening. She had already turned on her heels and started running towards the staircase, still looking in his direction.

"Don't worry," she grinned. "I think I know where I've left them."

"Nicky stop!"

Fletch seemed to watch in slow motion as the young F1 finally turned to face the direction she was running, but it was too late. Jac had walked out of the double doors from speaking to Mr Lewis at precisely the same moment and neither one were aware that they were on a collision course.

They hit hard, Nicky's shoulder coming into contact with the side of Jac's body.

The cry of pain that escaped Jac's lips surprised even herself as her knees buckled, her hand making its way to her ribs instantly. Everything was loud and dark as she clenched her eyes shut, trying to push away the pain induced nausea and ignoring the ringing in her ears. This was not how she'd planned her first day back at work.

"Jac?"

She could hear the worry in his voice again. Feel his comforting hand on her back. His warm breath on her neck as he leant in towards her. It had almost become her routine over the last few months. He always seemed to be there to pick her up again when she fell. Literally, in this case.

"I'm fine."

"Sure you are."

Why did he have to be as sarcastic as she was?

"I told you to calm down!" Fletch shouted at the chorus of apologies from Nicky. "Just get back to AAU."

Jac felt her breathing level out again and opened her eyes, the ward spinning back into focus as Fletch's hand made circles on her back.

"Ready?" Fletch took her by the arm and helped her back to her feet, the nausea threatening to make an appearance again. "Right, back to your office."

She didn't even try to argue this time as she looked down at her blood soaked shirt.

This really wasn't how she'd planned her first day back.

* * *

Fletch held on to her tightly as they stood in her office, until she nodded and pushed him away slightly, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Maybe it was too soon?"

"No," Jac opened her eyes at his words and shook her head. "If I didn't come back today, I never would."

"But you couldn't let Elliot down?" Fletch smiled. "He wants you to train Petrenko, right? Your little protégé."

"Something like that," Jac almost laughed. If only he knew the real reason she had decided to stay.

"Right, lets see then."

"What? No," Jac pulled away as Fletch came towards her, holding down her shirt. "I can deal with this."

"Sure you can," he smiled, pulling her hands away. "I've just had to deal with you as a patient on the ward for weeks remember, I've seen it all before. Now let me have a look."

Jac rolled her eyes and reluctantly lifted her arm as Fletch's warm hands traced a line across her ribs. She couldn't help watching him as he did, a crease between his eyebrows.

"Yep,"he nodded. "You've burst a stitch. Sit down."

"I'm fine."

"Sit down."

His voice was firm and Jac knew that there was no point in arguing. She didn't have the strength to argue anyway. For some reason, he seemed to have that effect on her recently.

"Now stay here for two minutes and don't move," he spoke slowly, like he would to one of his children, then disappeared from the office.

Jac watched him leave and leant her head back against the sofa. She had been determined to come back strong, to show everyone that she was just as able to run her ward as she had been a few months ago. Before she nearly walked away and left it all. Before she had broken down in this very office until she was being held on her feet by the very same man who had spent the last few months piecing her back together. Whether Fletch was aware of that, Jac wasn't sure.

But without him, she knew that she wouldn't be sat where she was right now. He had pushed her to get back on her feet, both mentally and physically, as soon as possible. She had been so stuck in her own head that she'd almost forgotten what was really important; getting home to her daughter.

Fletch returned within five minutes with a suturing kit and a smile.

"This might hurt," he frowned. "Come on, lie down."

"Just get on with it," Jac did as she was told and turned away from Fletch as he knelt by the sofa and started to clean the blood from her skin.

This wasn't the first time she had had a Holby nurse stitch her up during her shift, and Jac tried to distance herself from the memories of Jonny sat in front of her, needle in hand, stitching together the small, faint scar that ran along her forehead. It felt so long ago now, and yet she couldn't help but remember the look on his face when she had said those words to him.

"Which is probably why, I love you."

That was before she had messed everything up of course. Before she had pushed him away like everyone else. His brother had called their relationship toxic, and looking back on it, Jac would agree. And yet there wasn't a second she ever regretted their messy relationship, because it had given her Emma. And despite what she told herself, she had loved him. Really loved him. He had tried to fix her, and all she had done was mess with his head. She pushed him away and broke his heart on more than one occasion.

Could she really let herself think of the possibility of loving someone else, other than her daughter?

"Done," Fletch announced as he pulled her shirt back down over her skin. "And not even a wince from the patient. Then again, I knew Jac Naylor was as hard as nails."

Jac rolled her eyes again as he helped her sit up, knowing for a fact that he had seen the pain shoot across her features.

"Thank you," she said sincerely as Fletch pulled off his surgical gloved and sat down next to her.

"No problem, all part of the service."

There was a pause.

"You look tired," Jac commented and Fletch nodded slightly.

"I am."

"How are the kids coping?"

Fletch looked at her and for the first time, Jac could see his eyes glisten with unshed tears.

"Truthfully, they're not," Fletch stated, his hand moving to Jac's knee. "And I know they're trying not to show it for my sake."

Jac raised her hand as if to take a hold of Fletch's and changed her mind, clenching her fist instead. But he noticed.

"It's ok," Fletch reassured her, his eyes creased in concern as he held his hand out slightly.

But Jac could feel her heart hamming inside her chest again as she looked into his eyes, her whole body aching to move closer to him. She wanted nothing more than for the outstretched hand to wrap around her shoulders and pull her in tight. To keep her safe.

"I think you should go."

Fletch didn't move.

"What are you so afraid of?" He asked, knowing that Jac would understand the question for what it was.

She looked away from him again, her hands starting to tremble and so she clutched at her stethoscope.

"You don't want this," she said, not daring to look at him. "You don't want to get close to me."

"You really are the most stubborn person I have ever met, and that includes my kids!" Fletch almost shouted. "Why won't you listen to me? There are people who care about you. People who are willing to help, to stick around. What about Sacha?"

"Sacha's an idiot."

Fletch laughed, running his hands through his hair.

"I'm old enough and ugly enough to make my own decisions, Jac."

"I don't want you to get hurt!" She turned now, looking him straight in the eyes before she dropped her voice to almost a whisper. "I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt."

"I'm not going to."

But Jac shook her head.

"The last three people I spoke to that day are either dead or were in a coma for a month," Jac said seriously and Fletch was scared by the look in her eyes.

"And you think that's your fault?"

Jac shrugged slightly, trying to blink away the tears that were forming again.

"You know, there are some things that even the great Jac Naylor can't predict. Or prevent.," Fletch said gently. "You had nothing to do with Raf or Ollie getting shot. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like you were."

Jac blinked and felt the tears run freely down her face. Fletch bit his lip slightly before raising a hand and running his thumb along her cheek, wiping them away.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Jac took a breath to steady herself and closed the space between them, his hand moving from her cheek to the back of her head, and their lips connected.

It wasn't rushed. Wasn't rough. He tasted of mint toothpaste and safety, and he let her kiss him until her tears ran down both their lips.

When she pulled away slightly Fletch couldn't help but notice the spark of the old Jac in her eyes. The Jac he knew before she had lost Jasmine.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," he shrugged and noticed the hurt flash across her features. "Or something. If you want it to be."

Jac was silent, her hands still clenching her stethoscope.

"We can forget about it if you like?"

Jac gave the smallest shake of her head and Fletch was sure he could see her lips twitching in a smile.

She learnt in again and placed a small kiss on his cheek, her lips lingering for longer than he had expected.

"Thank you," she smiled, her hand finding his. "For everything."

He nodded, his wide smile making her heartbeat quicken again.

"So, does this mean you're going to start listening to me a little more often, when I tell you that you need a break?"

Jac rolled her eyes and gave him her signature Jac glare.

"You really are the most brazen man I've ever met," she couldn't help but smile, her eyes never leaving his. "There are F1s with more common sense than you. Even Levy has less persistence than you do."

Fletch smirked playfully.

"Well, I love you too, Naylor."


End file.
